


Aphelion

by kee_writestrashh



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Abuse, Action, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Game of Thrones Fusion, Alternate Universe - Star Wars Setting, Angst, Angst and Romance, BDSM, Blood and Gore, F/M, Force Choking, Force Sensitivity, Imperial Officers (Star Wars), Jedi, Manipulation, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Shameless Smut, Sith, Stormtrooper Culture, The Dark Side of the Force, Torture, Universe Alteration, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2019-03-16 16:06:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13639653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kee_writestrashh/pseuds/kee_writestrashh
Summary: Ramsay is commander of the newly reinstated Inferno Squadron (after the extreme failure of the last one, and the dire need for a new elite special ops unit) under Admiral Roose Bolton, though they simply call themselves the Bastard’s Boys. The nickname was a long standing joke in the academy, and it sort of just stuck, despite Ramsay’s hate and annoyance at the name.While things are relatively quiet across the galaxy despite the constant strain of war, Commander Ramsay and his squad have their hands full with missions.  They are used, to great effect, in obtaining information on the Rebels and traitors, and even better at making people leak information. Recently, they have been used as sort of bounty hunters, much to his frustration.





	1. Sand in all the Wrong Places

This place was too dry. The wind too hot. And the **_sand_**. 

‘ _How could people even live here like this?_ ’ Ramsay thought to himself, as he pushed up his goggles and dropped his hood.

Dressed like a civilian on this dreadful planet. At least he wouldn’t have to worry about the sand getting stuck in his armor, and Silent Sister was tucked away, nice and clean on the ship. He would have to oil and shine the blaster on his hip, but this blaster was nowhere near as important to him as his rifle.

“I feel like I will be finding sand in every part of my body for the rest of forever.” Damon sighed, also pulling his hood off and pushing up his goggles as he stepped into the heart of the tiny market place beside Ramsay.

Ramsay snorted, “You and and me both. I hate this fucking planet. Just blow it up and the system would be better for it.”

“So?” Damon said, eyeing a vendor who was selling texts and scrolls.

“I’ve no idea. Admiral Bolton just said that there was intel about a force user here. And it’s our job to track, apprehend, and bring back. **_Alive_**.” Ramsay said bitterly.

“Was that really it, or did you tune him out halfway?” Damon asked, with a slightly airy wave, his curiosity getting the better at him as he made for the scroll vendor.

“Of course I listened to what he said. And that was all the information he gave me. Told us to pack our shit and get going.” Ramsay grumbled, following in Damon’s wake, casting glances around the square, squinting his eyes against the glaring sun.

He leaned against the counter, propping his elbow up, and resting his cheek on his hand, watching Damon shuffle through the papers.

 

> _“Commander Bolton, a word please.” Roose had said sharply, barging into Ramsay’s room, only to leave just as quickly._
> 
> _“Of course, Admiral.” Ramsay had replied, picking himself up from his bed and following his father to his own personal chambers._
> 
> _“I have a job for you.” Roose said, turning on his boot heel to face his son._
> 
> _Ramsay had gave a small frown. He had only just got back. A mission that had gone less than perfect. Which is what he had been thinking about as he laid on his bed._
> 
> _“Yes sir.” he nodded, coming to stand at attention._
> 
> _“We have received an intelligence report about a force sensitive individual on Varadan. You and your team will go in, blend in, find this individual, and bring them back._ **_Alive_ ** _.”  His father had spoken in his deadly whisper, each word becoming colder and colder as he spoke, and a very harsh emphasis on the last word._
> 
> _Ramsay had made a noise in his throat, rocking on his heels slightly and gaping at his father. “You say that as though I had full intentions of killing that family from the get go. I did my job. That was it.”_
> 
> _“You were told to avoid harming them at all costs, Ramsay!”_
> 
> _“They put my men in danger! I got the intel. So what if a family died? They deserved it! Traitors and thieves do not deserve life!” Ramsay had shouted, the heat rising in his face._
> 
> _“You disobeyed orders!” Roose shouted back. He had taken a deep breath and forced himself to calm down before speaking again._
> 
> _“I had to save my men!” Ramsay growled._
> 
> _“That’s it? That’s your lame excuse, Commander? You are putting the blame on your men?” Roose hissed, swelling like an angry feline._
> 
> _“None of that was my fault! Someone tipped them off! They were ready for us!”_
> 
> _“Are you not a shadow? Is it not your squadron’s responsibility to be the best of the best? And you let a little thing like a tip off ruin your mission because your men were in danger? Are you not trained to overcome any obstacle and come out on top? Or were all those years at the Academy a waste? Remind me, son. What comes first?”_
> 
> _Ramsay clenched his jaw and glared at his father, “The mission.”_
> 
> _“Exactly. Not only did you fail to put the mission first, but you disobeyed orders as well. That is two strikes, Ramsay.”_ _he stepped right into Ramsay, their faces inches apart and he had grabbed Ramsay be the front of the shirt._ _“I will give you one warning, Ramsay. If you fail this mission too, I have the full rights and will strip your rank. Do you understand me, **Commander**_ _?”_
> 
> _Ramsay clenched his jaw and narrowed his eyes, “Perfectly, Admiral.” He hissed._
> 
> _“Good. I will have the files brought to you and you will leave within the next two hours.”_

“He did this on purpose. Sent us on this bullshit, fruitless mission to punish me for what happened with that resistance family.” Ramsay growled suddenly, coming out of his thoughts.

Damon gave a sigh, placing a stack of papers down and turning to look at Ramsay. “Maybe so. But does it matter? No. We were sent here on orders. Orders we have to follow. Besides maybe there is a jedi here?”

Ramsay gave a dark laugh, “Even if there is someone here as the intel said, they are not a damn Jedi. There are no more Jedi. And there’s nothing here except sand and slaves.”

“Well, then it makes it easy to find our  _Jedi,_ huh?” Damon smirked, turning back to the vendor to haggle prices on the old papers.

Ramsay rolled his eyes and glanced around the market again. Would this Jedi be human? Maybe some other race? How was he even supposed to decide who was worth tailing? 

This was impossible and pointless. Even _IF_ there was someone here who had a link to the **force** , what did they matter in the grand scheme of things? They were not likely to be trained, and even less likely to have a saber. They were no Jedi Knight, so they were no threat. They probably weren’t even aware they had a link to the so called force.

Yet, he wasn’t sure how that worked exactly. Was it a physical feeling? A mental feeling? Hm, maybe he would ask Damon. Surely Damon had read something on the matter.

When he opened his mouth to speak he stopped, feeling a pair of hands leaving his pocket. He drew his blaster, turning quickly and taking aim at the child who had just tried to rob him.

Damon gasped, grabbing Ramsay’s wrist and pointing the blaster upward as Ramsay pulled the trigger.

“Let go of me, Damon.” Ramsay hissed.

“Commander, he is a boy. A child. We cannot afford to draw attention to ourselves.” Damon warned.

Ramsay ripped his arm away from Damon, returning his blaster to his hip. “I do not care that he is a child. How many children have we killed now? But he is a thief. He needs punished.”

“Did he take anything?” Damon asked, exchanging his credits for the papers.

“No. But that is hardly the point.” Ramsay scowled, watching the top of the boy’s head disappear as he ran further away. As he pulled his eyes away from the boy he saw Ben, Alyn, and Skinner making their way towards them.

The three stopped in front of Ramsay. Ramsay took a sniff, scrunching his nose.

“Ben, you smell like you exploded.” 

Ben gave a nervous chuckle and pushed up his goggles, “Yeah… about that. It’s a rather funny story.” 

“It better be so funny I die of laughter.” Ramsay frowned crossing his arms tight over his chest.

“Actually, it’s not that funny, Commander.” Alyn pipped up.

Ramsay looked past the two to Skinner who gave a lazy shrug. He looked back between Ben and Alyn, “No. Please. Do go on. I’m very interested now.” he raised his brows, waiting.

“Well, you see… I was, uh, _experimenting._ And Alyn here thought it would be…” Ben started, but was unable to finish as Alyn’s fist came into contact with his jaw.

“Me? You son of a bitch! It was all your fault!” Alyn raged, tackling Ben to the sand.

It was a rather amusing sight since Alyn was so much smaller than Ben in size. However, the had an image to keep. Ramsay pulled his blaster and shot off a single round into the sand. Both Alyn and Ben stopped in their actions, covering their heads.

Damon was the one who broke the tension, “Come on Boys. Look at us. We are all a bit tired, hot, and irritable. Let’s go grab a drink and something to eat. I’ll even pay.”

Alyn and Ben pushed themselves up and gave consented murmurs as Damon set off toward the cantina, dusting themselves off. 

Ramsay stood there, watching as Alyn and Ben fell into step behind Damon. He gave a contemptuous look at Skinner before falling in step beside him.

“Anything?” Ramsay asked, looking straight ahead of him, watching Skinner out of the corner of his eye.

“No sir. Nothing so far.” Skinner hummed, giving a small shrug.

Ramsay frowned but said no more until they walked into the crowded little bar. Out of the sun it felt almost cold in here.

“Ben, come with me, and we will go get drinks.” Damon tittered.

“What happened?” Ramsay asked, giving a hard look at Alyn.

Alyn avoided looking directly at Ramsay, “Ben and I had an idea. But it backfired, and uh… the ship is damaged.” He glanced up in panic before adding quickly, “but its superficial. On the outside. I just need to salvage a few parts from the junk yard just over the way until we can get back to HQ.”

xxx

Damon was picking at his teeth with a knife as the rest of the Boys finished their meals and drinks. “Man, I have sand between my teeth even.” He sighed.

Ramsay snorted into his cup, pushing away from the table to stand and give a stretch. “One more drink and then we are calling it a day. Get an early start. My ship better be repaired by tomorrow evening, Alyn. I want off this damn planet as quickly as possible once we are finished here.”

“Yes sir.” Alyn nodded, slumping down in his seat.

As Ramsay walked past a table on his way to the counter his eyes landed on a corner table where two hooded females sat, deep in conversation. He paid them no mind as he ordered a drink and returned to the table. However, he stole a couple more glances.

The Boys were bullshitting about worthless things as Ramsay stared down into his cup, the reflection of his cold eyes glaring back at him.

He could not return back to headquarters without his prize. He had too much on the line. He was not going to lose his position. He had murdered to get where he was. 

A female, or maybe it was a male, didn’t matter, an alien of a race he wasn’t familiar with approached their table, speaking in a language he did not know. He glanced over to Damon, who sat up quickly.

“Well?” Ramsay asked.

“She says someone is trying to scrap our ship.” Damon said, scrambling out of his seat and taking off towards the exit.

Well fuck.

Ramsay pulled his blaster tore off after Damon, the other Boys in tow.

The two women in the corner watched the commotion. 

“I wonder who they are?” The younger one asked, watching closely.

“Probably just some smugglers.” The elder one said with a shrug.

“They’re dressed too nice to be smugglers, Sansa.” The younger one said, giving Sansa a skeptical look.

“Okay, so slave traders or something.” Sansa shrugged, turning back to her drink.

“Nope. I felt something odd when the short one looked over here. They aren’t smugglers or traders.”

Sansa rolled her eyes, “You’re always saying that. Oh the force this, and the force that. It’s a bunch of nonsense.”

“Well, the force is telling me they are trouble, and I mean to find out.”

Sansa gasped, making to swipe at her companion as she left the table quickly.

“Arya, no! You will get us into trouble!” Sansa hissed, setting her cup down quickly and pulling her hood lower over her face as she stood and hurried off after Arya. 


	2. Thieves and Rebellions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is set around the beginning building of the New Order.

Running in sand was a nightmare. Especially under this sun. This planet was nothing but garbage. 

Huffing and puffing, the Boys approached the ship as a boy emerged with panels from the side of ship.

"It's the boy from the market. And you told me to let him go!" Ramsay hissed through heavy breathing, gripping his blaster.

"Like I could have known he was going to make me eat my words." Damon huffed back, pulling his own blaster.

The boy noticed them, dropping the scrap completely and taking off at as fast a pace as he could.

"Halt!" Ramsay shouted, firing off a round.

It did make the boy hesitate, but he continued running.

"Once I catch you, you will regret it! If you stop now, the price won't be so much."

But the boy kept running.

Ramsay jerked his head around, "Ben, let the beasts out!"

"Yes sir!" Ben nodded, slowing his run as they reached the ship.

Fuck, this sun was so hot. This sand too loose. His mouth was getting way too dry, making breathing annoying and hard. The sand was harsh against his face, and stung at his cheeks and eyes.

He tried to swallow, but it felt as though the saliva had long since run dry.

But he had to catch the little thief. He was going to pay for his crimes.

Three quick blurs shot past and he finally quit running. The massiff's would put the boy down.

He rested his hands on his knees, panting heavily. They really should have done more desert kind of training. In the agility sense at least.

Damon came to a halt beside Ramsay and held out a canteen.

Ramsay ripped the canteen from Damon's hand and drank deeply. He had never been so thankful for simple water.

Damon pulled a pair of macrobinoculars from his bag and held them up to his eyes. After a couple moments he exchanged them to Ramsay for the canteen.

Ramsay looked through the lenses and smiled to himself as he saw the three beats circling the boy, waiting for the order.

"Little shit was pretty fast." He hummed handing the binoculars back to Damon and setting off down the sandy slope. 

He took his time reaching the Massiffs. It would only increase the sense of foreboding inside the boy.

He walked past the largest massif, named Red Jyene, running his gloved hand over its head and grabbing the boy by the scruff of the neck. He said nothing as he drug the boy behind him back up to the ship.

"Grab a whip." He said to Alyn, whistling a tune as he made off back toward the market square, still pulling the boy along, who had given up struggling anymore. Maybe he was too hot and tired to? But it didn't matter. It would only make what Ramsay was about to do more satisfying.

 

He shoved the boy down on his knees in the middle of the square. He pulled his blaster and shot at a large metal sign outside of a shop. It gave a reverberating _gong_  .

"Listen up." Ramsay said in a loud, carrying voice as the people around the market turned their attention toward Ramsay and the Boys. "Twice today this boy has tried to take things that are not his. It seems this place needs a little more law enforcement. The Order cannot restore peace and _order_ if slave owners cannot control their slaves. If things like this are allowed to happen you are just as evil as the enemy. Is that what you people want? To live in fear and let your belongings get stolen away from you? All of your hard work to amount to nothing? We are stronger than this! With your help we can rid the galaxy of scum like this!"

"I told you, Sansa! I told you! They're First Order! They're here for us. We need to fight back!" Arya whispered violently to her sister as the both stood in the shadows watch the crowd.

"No. Father sent us here to keep us safe. No one knows. We cannot do anything until we hear from father." Sansa whispered, eyes watching the scene as two of the men yanked the boy and tore his shirt from him. She gave a tiny gasp. "He's going to whip him!"

"There is no place among the galaxy for thieves, young or old. The boy should lose his hand. However, I am a man of mercy." Ramsay said, slowly unwinding the whip Alyn had brought him. With a smirk he pulled back his arm, bringing the whip down hard and fast with a perfectly executed flick of the wrist to allow the end of the whip to cut deeply into the boy's flesh. 

The boy fell forward, catching himself on his hands, but he had refused to cry out. 

Sansa gripped Arya's arm as her eyes were glued to the blood welling across the boy's back. "Arya, let's go. Away from here." 

But Arya was too busy watching as a second lash hit the boy's back. The boy did cry out this time.

Ramsay gave a small grin to himself, rolling the whip up slowly and walking slowly around to the front of the boy. He sneered down at the boy, who whimpered and shook as he held himself up on his hands and knees.

"Up, thief. Hold your back straight and your head high." Ramsay said gently, holding the whip out for Alyn to take back. The boy didn't move. Ramsay tutted. "I Know it hurts. I have been there. Here, let me help you." He said gently, holding his hand out.

The boy brought his tear filled eyes up to Ramsay's face to see he wore a kind expression. The boy took his hand and allowed Ramsay to help him up to his knees. Once the boy was steady on his knees Ramsay kneeled down to level with the boy and pulled his blaster, holding it under the boy's chin.

Sansa gasped, gripping Arya's hand tighter and tugging, "We need to leave! We need to go contact father before they find us."

Reluctantly, Arya let Sansa pull her away from the scene.

Ramsay smirked, watching the boy tremble and close his eyes tight; feeling his blaster move against the underside of the boy's chin as he swallowed hard. He dropped his eyes to the liquid seeping in the sand underneath the boy and gave a small chuckle.

"If you're going to do something that will get you killed, do not suddenly regret death from your actions." Ramsay whispered to the boy.

Damon kneeled down beside Ramsay to whisper in his ear, "We can't afford this. We were supposed to blend in. If you kill the boy the people won't help us."

Ramsay turned his head slightly more towards Damon. "So then what do you suggest?" he hissed out of the corner of his mouth.

"Pay his owner and we take him to Carida and enlist him in training. He will never be high ranking, but we can always use grunts on the front lines. Make it out to be an honor in front of the towns people. Get them on our side." Damon said quickly, standing up straight again.

"Looks like your lucky day, boy." Ramsay sneered, putting his blaster away and standing up straight. He turned back to the amassed crowd. "Who owns this boy?"

A very fat man stepped forward, bowing deeply to Ramsay, "The boy belongs to the man who lives on the outskirts of town. Follow the path that way," he pointed to his left, "and you will reach the hut in a matter of minutes."

"Right. Listen to me. I will pay for him and his freedom, and he will be shipped off to the finest academy in all the galaxy. There he will learn the value of hard work and loyalty. Never again will he steal anything. Nor will he have the need to. He will be paid, fed, and sheltered. He will be given the best life the Order can provide for those that are loyal. Hear me good people. I know there have been rumors that the new Order is violent and ruthless. But this is a _**LIE**_. It is the _Resistance_ and the _rebels_ that are causing you all to suffer still. They take and they take until the people like you can no longer afford life! Help us, help you." Ramsay said, putting on his kindest, most sincere face and most convincing voice.

"Can you believe that?" Arya gaped, still watching Ramsay as Sansa pulled her around the corner and out of sight. 

Ramsay turned to Damon, "off to the slave owners then."

He watched the boy from the corner of his eye as they walked. His master must be very lash happy, or the damn kid was always having pain inflicted upon him as punishment for his stupidity. He still hadn't uttered a word.

The boy sniffed and whimpered the whole walk and it was becoming annoying. But, Ramsay said nothing as they all walked through the gate leading to the large hut.

A woman greeted them, eyeing the boy in sadness.

Ramsay assumed her to be his mother.

"I need to speak with your master." Ramsay said politely to the woman.

She only nodded and motioned them forward, leading them inside. Again the indoors feeling like being submerged in ice after the sun.

"I-if you will wait here." The woman said quietly, hurrying off. 

Ramsay glanced around. There were many nice things in here for a pile of sand. But before he could examine any further the woman returned with a tall, slender man dressed in fine clothes.

"May I help you?" He asked. He had an oily voice and smelt strongly of spices.

Ramsay gave a small bow, "I am Commander Ramsay and these are my men. Your little slave here tried to rob me twice today. So I would like to buy him and recruit him for the Academy. Teach him the value of life."

"Mm. You can gladly buy him. He's not much use. I don't think he's all there. He don't speak much." 

Ramsay glanced at the boy, "a tongue that doesn't speak against orders is a good one. What's your name boy?"

"We just call him Grunt." The slave owner shrugged.

"Well, I suppose it doesn't matter. He will be given a new name in the ranks. How much?" 

"Just fifty credits and he's all yours." The man said with an airy wave.

"Done deal." Ramsay nodded, pulling a bag of credit chips from his pocket.

×××

"I think we really hurt ourselves with that little display in the market." Damon sighed, handing Ramsay a drink and shaking his damp hair, "and i'm still covered in sand."

Ramsay took the drink and glanced over in the corner where Grunt was stuffing his face full of rations. "I dunno. I thought we sounded pretty conving. Said some bullshit, showed some mercy."

"Yeah, but if there were any force sensitive individuals before there sure as hell aren't now." Damon said, propping his feet up on the table as he sat across from Ramsay.

"Wass that mean?" Grunt asked through a mouthful of rations.

"Shut your mouth, you sneak thief." Ramsay snapped, blowing into his hot drink.

Damon shot Ramsay a look. Ramsay pursed his lips and rolled his eyes but gave a nod.

"It means people who can use the Force. You know, like Jedi." Damon said kindly.

"Mm. I seent 'em. These two girls. Sisters. But they look complete opposites. Like night an' day. I seen the younger 'un move rocks with her mind." Grunt nodded turning back to his food.

A wicked grin formed on Ramsay's face as he and Damon stared at one another. Damon letting his feet fall to the floor.

Ramsay set his drink down and stood quickly. "Get the Boys ready. It's dark. Full battle." 

He set off quickly to the room he and Damon shared on the ship. Hastily he pulled on his armor, grabbing up his helmet and slinging Silent Sister over his shoulder.

"True what you said abou' the First Order?" Grunt asked in the door way, watching Ramsay dress in his full battle rattle.

Ramsay turned to the boy, who eyes glittered at the polished armor and weapons. He gave a smirk, ruffling the boy's hair as he walked past.

"Oh yeah, kid. See the galaxy. Make money. Protect the people."

He paused, wondering briefly if he believed that himself. Yes. For the Order. For the power. For the glory.


End file.
